Page 38 of The Rival's Obsession
And that smile.
Not the Ledger Companion smile.
This one’s relaxed. Alive. Real.
Like she’s saying,You’ve got this.
I reach out without thinking, and when she takes my hand, her skin is cool and certain. She lets me help her rise, like this is what people do for her. And of course they do. They pay well for her company… fuck.We’repaying well for her company.
And I’m starting to see why.
“Thanks,” I say under my breath. “For thinking ahead.”
She only nods, lips curving like she knew I’d say it eventually. “It’s what I’m here for.”
We walk the carpet together, smooth as glass.
I don’t speak unless prompted, and she doesn’t over-direct. Just a soft glance here, a light brush of her fingers on my sleeve there.
At one stop, she greets a publicist by name and offers a polite kiss on each cheek. Says something I can’t hear. Then gestures toward me, her smile professional, but her body language readingwatch this one.
The press does as they’re told. Cameras click.
She’s not just easing the tension—she’s shaping the story.
And for once, I don’t feel the need to plot out every next step or align things into order. I let her lead.
As we move forward again, a tall woman in a white suit glides past us—broad, athletic shoulders, cropped hair, unmistakable presence. WNBA. I recognize her from a sports equity panel last fall.
She gives Eve a nod and a quiet, knowing smile. Familiar. Intimate.
My brow lifts. I lean in just enough so only she hears me. “Client of yours?”
Eve doesn’t miss a beat. Doesn’t confirm. Doesn’t deny.
Just murmurs back, low and smooth, “I never kiss and tell.”
Then she glances at me, then my lips.
And for just a second… I wonder if that was more than a witty reply.
A promise, maybe.
Or an invitation.
Should I ever want to test it—it would be our secret.
My gaze lingers a second too long, like I’m already answering her back.
It’s been five years since I’ve eventhoughtabout sex in any real way. Not in passing. Not in the quiet of night. Not even during those rare stretches of boredom or loneliness that might tempt lesser men.
Desire is a distraction. And I’ve had more important things to rebuild.
But now—here she is.
Eve, in her tailored pants and wicked mouth, smoothing down my lapel like she owns the right. Tossing glances that feel like they’re testing the temperature.
And Dante’s question yesterday—if sex was on the table?—
